Category: No More 19 Kids and Counting

I think because I’ve known so many trans people in my lifetime this kind of thing bothers me a little less each time I hear it…only because I’ve heard all this negativity before and I’m just not sensitized to it anymore.

Actor/Director Peter Berg recently made comments on social media about Caitlyn that have many people both repulsed and resigned to the fact that ignorance and bigotry still exists.

Peter Berg posted an atrocious meme on Instagram that juxtaposes Jenner alongside a picture of double amputee war veteran Gregory D. Gadson, with the caption: “One man traded 2 legs for the freedom of the other to trade 2 balls for 2 boobs. Guess which man made the cover of Vanity Fair, was praised for his courage by President Obama and is to be honored with the ‘Arthur Ashe Courage Award’ by ESPN?”

You can read the rest here…he did post an apology on instagram. But it’s that Ariana Grande kind of apology that falls short in sincerity. In other words, he didn’t just come out and say “I’m a fucking douche. I’m sorry for that.”

While there’s no waypossible to ever thank and praise veteran, Gregory D. Gadson, enough for his bravery and what he did for the US, not to mention the sacrifices he made, I don’t think it’s fair to fault Jenner for going public the way she did. I never, ever take either situation lightly and I’m in awe of both Jenner and Gadson.

The Duggars Are Canceled

The Duggars have/had that reality TV show, 19 Kids and Counting. They’ve always been anti-gay, and without apology. I didn’t mind them too much and I never paid much attention to them. They are what they are. However, they also have a history of sex abuse within the family.

“After thoughtful consideration, TLC and the Duggar family have decided to not move forward with 19 Kids and Counting,” the network said in a statement released earlier today. “The show will no longer appear on the air.”

I can’t help but think about how much this reminds me of the Pope and the Catholic Church. While they slam gays and try to block equal rights whenever they can, they’ve all got more than their fair share of skeletons in their own closets.

Here’s an excerpt from the most recent book in the Rainbow Detective series, The Scottish Duke Book Five. It hasn’t been published yet, but I thought I’d post the prologue.

This book is a stand alone and it has a lot of different elements I don’t usually get into. One, there’s a transgender character. I can’t go into detail about that without giving spoilers. Two, I get into the topic of writers writing gay fiction, pen names, fake identities, and how competitive it can sometimes become. In fact, the entire mystery revolves around a character who writes gay romance and will stop at nothing to become a best seller in the genre. I can’t go into detail there either because of spoilers.

In a small, dark studio apartment located in a quiet section of West Hollywood, the vinyl floors were ripped and cracked and the venetian blinds hung gray with age. The stove-top was littered with old magazines and the toilet in the only bathroom didn’t have a seat. There was nothing extraordinary about the apartment other than this: the walls were lined with images of Proctor Gamble.

Every wall, not just one. It wasn’t even possible to see a hint of the drab gray paint showing through.

There were photos of Proctor as a young male model in swimsuits and photos of portraits that had been painted of him by pop culture artists. In some of the photos, Proctor wore designer business suits from the 1990’s and in others he wore sleek leather jackets with faded jeans. There were full body images, close ups of Proctor’s face, and there was even one rare magazine photo of him posing in his home with his Bengal cat, Constance. The newer photos were from newspaper clippings where he’d been mentioned as the owner of The Rainbow Detective Agency. Stippled in between them, were selfies Proctor had posted on social media that had been printed on flimsy white paper.

However, the centerpiece of this obsession was on the longest wall in the apartment. This wall was lined from floor to ceiling, one over-lapping the other, with the infamous poster of Proctor Gamble in a swimsuit. Even the one window on that wall had been covered up with the swimsuit poster.

This was the swimsuit photo of Proctor that had turned him into a pop culture icon and made his career as a world famous male model. At the time he’d posed for it, the men’s swimwear company that had hired him had placed him on a billboard in Times Square. Back then no one thought much of it. They all thought it was just another swimsuit campaign that would come and go like all the rest, including Proctor.

For some reason the swimsuit photo resonated with millions of people and Proctor’s entire life changed suddenly overnight. He was asked to do morning news shows, was featured on talk shows, and became one of the world’s highest paid male models and a pop culture celebrity without even trying too hard.

After that, millions of people fell in love with Proctor Gamble, including the middle aged man who rented the small studio apartment in West Hollywood that smelled like a swamp and was filled with images of Proctor. At a glance, there was nothing special about this man other than the fact that his apartment was covered with photos of Proctor. He had short brown hair, a medium build, and stood almost six feet tall. He had unusually small hands and feet. When he was dressed he wore dad jeans and plain white or checked short sleeve shirts, and always with sneakers and black socks from a discount store. He had no pets, no family, and no friends. If a stranger had walked into his apartment and taken one quick glance at the walls, the stranger would have gaped at him and wondered if there was something wrong.

When the guy was home alone he never put on clothes. He enjoyed exposing his sagging chest and his slight paunch to the perfect images of Proctor that followed him everywhere he went in the apartment. Sometimes he would stand in one spot staring at them for no particular reason. Other times he would smile and make faces at them, as if expecting Proctor’s photos to reply to him.

On a warm morning in the early part of a quiet week, a gun went off in the apartment and the man’s eyes grew wider. A second after that, the naked man fell and landed on his back. He’d been facing the longest wall, the one covered with the famous swimsuit posters of Proctor. As the naked man glanced up at the wall, he noticed a large splash of blood on Proctor’s face, and then saw spots of fresh blood on the posters surrounding that one.

He took one quick breath and gasped.

His body shuddered a few times and his eyes opened a little wider.

Before he closed his eyes for the last time, he smiled when he saw Proctor Gamble’s image looking down at him, as if he’d finally seen the face of God.